Tribute
by Joriel
Summary: Saying goodbye is never easy. Especially when a young mutant has to take up a cause she'd left behind when she left earth to join a fight elsewhere. But as they say, once an X-man, always one. Arica(MindDancer) belongs to me, the rest belong to Marve


No one was surprised by the flawless, beautiful day that marked the occasion. More than a few strained smiles turned to Storm, most accompanied with approving nods for her tribute. None of those smiles reached the eyes that met hers though. Everyone ever associated with Xavier's School of the Gifted, past and present, milled around the grassy yard far to the back of the estate. The only noticable absenses to be seen where those who had died along the way or been unreachable for some reason to notify.  
  
The Memory Yard, which Xavier flatly refused to ever allow anyone to call a graveyard, was a lovely space. Graceful willows danced playfully in the wind amid the heavy scents of honeysuckle and lily of the valley.  
  
Logan shifted uncomfortably, the scent of the flowers reminding Logan sharply of the one notable absence at the memory yard. He snickered at himself for waiting for her to show up, last he'd heard she'd hooked up with Creed and the two had vanished in the last ten years. It hurt some last raw place inside him though, that anyone who'd known Chuck would fail to come. Much less that it had been one of his own young protegees. He'd rescued MindDancer from a collapsed building during an earthquake, and brought the frightened girl to Xavier. Xavier had helped her with her out of control telekinetic and telepathic abilities, putting her life back in her own hands. Hell, even Magneto was sitting quietly off to the side, a pale and silent figure deep in his own thoughts. I'll miss ya Chuck, you did good. It was all he could come up, and all he ever needed to say. The quiet man turned and joined the confused new youngsters who had just arrived at the school, and had been all but forgotten in the older students and teachers grief. Someone had ta look out for them and see them through this. Woolgathering over the lost wasn't going to help those still here.  
  
Kurt Wagner was officiating over the ceremony, despite only being a priest-in-training. There were precious few real priests who would officiate over the death of such a famous pro-mutant man as the one they were saying good-bye to today. Even less that actually knew him. Charles Xavier was a deeply spiritual man, but it was also intensely private for him. He had no time for things like formal worship or religious gatherings, he spent every waking moment of his life trying to create a safe haven for people like him, mutants. To create peace between those born with the new genes and those with the old. Kurt, codenamed Nightcrawler, had a special bond with Xavier, who had saved his very life from an angry mob of frightened German villagers who blamed him for the deaths his stepbrother, who he had just stopped, had committed. All because of the short blue fur that grew all over his body, smooth liquid golden eyes, long prehensile tail, and three fingered hands. Xavier had brought him to a place where he could be safe, could actually feel safe, and be himself. He would never forget, never stop being grateful for all the good things in his life that came out of that day. He turned to watch Phoenix laying a cluster of flowers down.  
  
Jean Gray Summers frowned slightly as she laid an armful of silken peace roses alongside the freshly filled in grave. They stood out against the army of white blossoms surrounding her, but privately she felt them more appropriate to her friend. He'd stood for peace always, never wavering from that ideal.  
  
The scent of the new sod laid over top of the bare earth and telltale bulge filled her senses, adding a sickly sweet and slightly nauseating edge to her grief. Charles had been her mentor, a second father who had helped her not only learn to control her powers, but her life. He'd helped her relate to her confused family, helped them know that there was nothing evil or twisted about her, that she was still the daughter they new and loved. He'd helped her come to terms with the hatred she felt for mutants every time she stepped outside of the school, and how to help her fellow mutants and humans alike to earn the peace so many of them craved. She felt bereft, Charles had been her anchor after her husband's untimely death. And now he was taken from her too, leaving her alone to wade through this it this time. She turned and fled from the graveside to rejoin her family who waited nearby with open, comforting arms to catch the tears she found herself unable to hold back any further. It comforted that her more than she had expected that they came, not just for her, but to honor the man who'd done so much for her.  
  
Henry McCoy, known with some irony and much affection as Beast, sat quietly in one of the many chairs set up in the grass, watching everything around him but saying little. He had a long speech prepared to give those left behind, expressing his feelings and opinions of the man lost to them. That would be enough from him for a while. He really didn't think anyone felt like listening to idle chatter from him today anyway. Lord knew he was bad at small talk, tending to choose topics of scientific import when everyone else wanted to talk about what they saw on television.  
  
Charles' had eased the isolation his intellect put upon him, and as well as his grief Henry McCoy was suffering from loneliness as well. He had to be strong for the students here, not let them fall prey to fear and uncertainty that their newly found safe haven would fall. It had fallen to Ororo, Jean, Logan, Angel, and Himself as a board of Trustees to continue overseeing and teaching at the school. In a private will, the five had also been made a council of sorts to determine when and where the X-men needed to intervene. Life had changed, again. Beast didn't know how they would get through this, but they had to. To honor his memory. And if no one saw a tear track through the soft blue fur on his face, all the better. Let them think him strong, and take strength and comfort in that.  
  
Jubilee peered around, quietly stunned by the amount of people here. Every mutant she had ever heard of ever being affiliated with Xavier was here, and more than a few of those they had fought along the way. She got why Magneto was here, but a few of the others had floored her. Logan just shrugged and told her that many of them respected him, both as a man and opponent, and were here to honor a brave opponent. She didn't live at the mansion anymore, headed her own team even, but she was still floored by the news that he was really gone.  
  
She'd just assumed that Jason Anders would be able to heal the growing cancer inside him, or modern medicine, or Shi'ar tech, or something. With all the options available, she had been so sure that everything was going to be fine. Only...it wasn't. It was a lot like the day her best friend had vanished into the world. Xavier had always been there for her, through every dissappointment, heartbreak, and confusion. He hadn't realized til now how heavily she had relied on him. She hung her head and tried not to think too much, wanting to be anywhere else. She hated these large and very public grief gatherings, she wanted to say good bye in private so much more. But she was here, because it was Xavier. She wouldn't embarrass the school or his teachings by not showing up.  
  
Rogue stood near Mystique, trying to control her emotions, be one of the strong ones. She would fall apart later, in private. But not here. Not in front of the students, in front of Mystique, or most especially in front of Remy. She was Rogue, and she would get through this, like she did everything. She'd made a lifetime career of coping with the impossible and doing it with a smile. When the slightest casual contact of your skin to your friends could kill them, you had to learn to be that way. But suddenly she missed Arica a great deal. Arica whose quiet eyes always met hers with understanding.  
  
A side glance at Scott's grave flooded her with resentment and guilt, easier emotions to deal with than the grief. She felt mildly guilty thinking ill of the dead, but she'd never really forgiven him for how badly he'd handled Arica. She often wondered if he'd driven the girl to do it, she had been so like Logan in temperament, only a bit more fragile somewhere. Maybe that was why? A small streak of emotional fragility that made the difference between thriving on the adversity like Logan and quitting the team and vanishing into the night somewhere with Sabretooth of all people?  
  
Rogue felt guilty too that she was so caught up in her own problems that she'd completely missed her best friend's. And maybe it was her or Jubilee that sent Arica running into the arms of Sabretooth for all she knew. But Scott was the one that broke the final thread holding her back. How furious Xavier had been, Arica had come so far under his private tutelage, almost leaving the violence and lawlessness of her past behind her. Almost free of everything dark Sinister put in her. Rogue wondered what she was like today. Or if Scott had driven her to embrace her own death. She wished she could have been in the room when Xavier had challenged Scott about losing MindDancer to the other side.  
  
"Stop glaring, you really don't want anyone to notice, do you?" Mystique said softly to Rogue, familiar with Rogue's anguish over her lost friend. Mystique had tried hard to find the missing pair of mutants to no avail, and steadily growing to believe Rogue's fearful utterance that Arica had died at Victor Creed's hands, taking him with her to eternity. Not even Jean Summers or Charles Xavier had been able to locate either of them through long sessions with Cerebro. Sighing, she put an arm around her foster daughters shoulders and tried to lend what comfort she could.  
  
Xavier had been one of the first to welcome her without reservation when she left her old ways behind and took on leadership of X-factor. Always giving second chances, and she'd appreciated it. Both for her own sake and Rogue's.  
  
Kitty Pryde was sitting a few rows behind Hank, bawling her eyes out. She felt small and pained by this last death. So many people she'd loved snatched away, and it was all just so damn easy. It shouldn't be that easy to turn people off, not like robots with switches. She leaned gratefully into Warren Worthington's comforting arms and let it all out.  
  
Warren Worthington the Third, Angel, raised his glittering blue eyes to meet the deep amethyst of Betsy Braddocks, codenamed Psylocke. Psylocked nodded slightly, moving her arm gently up and down Kitty's back soothingly. It was so much easier to deal with helping others than face their own private agonies right now.  
  
Ororo had quietly done a head count of people milling around to the list of expected guests, making sure that everyone that it would be awkward to begin without was down there. Finding everyone, she began to move down the path to call things to order to say good-bye to one of her dearest friends when she caught site of a black suv pulling up. A very tall, muscled blond man stepped out of the suv and walked around to the other side. A man they'd assumed they would never face again. Storms stomach tightened when she turned her gaze to the look in Logan's eyes, and shook her head slightly. She could see the war in his eyes for a brief moment, then he sat down heavily on one of the chairs, tense and wary but not causing a scene. But his eyes followed every motion near the newly arrived vehicle.  
  
Ororo turned back to watch Victor Creed help a small blond woman out of the vehicle, her stomach tightening with concern. Arica, if it was indeed their lost MindDancer, had always been full of energy and bouncy. She never waiting long enough for aid even if she needed it. Something in the man's posture assured her he had not committed whatever sin had changed the girl, there was something protective and caring in his body language. She could just hear the low growl of his voice, but couldn't make out the words. The tone of it was strangely comforting and supportive in the gruff voice. He stepped out of her line of vision, and she recanted her earlier assessment. He had committed the sin that was slowing her down.  
  
Arica looked up the hill at the gathering, one arm curled around the baby strapped to her chest in a brightly colored cloth carrier, the other steadying herself carefully on Victor's arm. The child was small, extremely so, Ororo guess it was only a couple of days old. Which accounted for the careful way she moved herself as she walked at Victor's side toward the seats. Victor grabbed a matching bag from the suv, shut the door, and moved to help her along as Rogue moved immediately to intercept her, creating another small conference.  
  
"Hi Sugar," Rogue said softly, not sure if she was more astonished over Arica's sudden reappearance after so many years, or the small child strapped to her old friend.  
  
Arica smiled shyly, uncertainly, just staring at Rogue with her wide tilted brown eyes. Victor merely stood quietly at her side, one strong arm sliding around her shoulders for her to lean on should she need it. His expression met Rogue's challengingly, and there was a tension in his face that suggested he worried what she would do to Arica.  
  
Rogue found the small gesture unbearably sweet, a man caring for his mate healing after the rigors of childbirth, defending her against any further pain. It was an ancient gesture from the dawn of humanity, and one she'd never imagined Victor Creed would ever make. Rogue flashed Victor a reasusruing smile, then suddenly stepped forward and hugged Arica. She was careful to avoid squishing the little bundle of life, and careful to let Victor see that she offered no violence to his mate or child. She didn't know what he was like anymore. He just smiled, a little slyly and laughed softly at her, asking his wife if she wanted him to take the baby for a while.  
  
"No, I have her," Arica replied, putting her arms around Rogue. She turned her attention to her friend then. "I"m sorry."  
  
"No Sugar, no sorries, no regrets, not anger. Life's not long enough for any of that stuff, and I'm just glad you're here. When you leave, can I have your phone number? That's all I ask, I missed ya."  
  
Arica smiled, letting Rogue's heavy southern accent fall over her like a comforting blanket. "Thank you, Rogue. Thank you so much. I missed you too! And I didn't have a way to reach you before, we were on Shi'ar."  
  
Rogue stared at her, floored. "Huh?"  
  
"Chuck called us a few months after we left, apologized for the scene, asked if we would consider coming back to the X-men. Both of us," Creed replied, his voice filled with amusement. "Can you see me, an X-man? Anyway, I left it up to Arica, who said no. She didn't think Cyke, her, and me would work any better than just Cyke and her. Then he asked us if we would consider helping Lilandra out. I got to kick interstellar ass, marry Arica, who fixed my brain, and we started a family. I got no complaints, or grudges."  
  
Rogue nodded, catching the hidden meaning and smiled. Second chances, even for Sabretooth. The world was a strange and wondrous place, she supposed.  
  
Arica laughed at her husband, but it was quiet and sad as her eyes strayed to the fresh grave. "He wanted to live long enough to see our child," she said softly, her eyes distant and muted somehow. "He wanted us to come as soon as I gave birth and could travel."  
  
She broke down, leaning heavily on Victor as she wept softly. Creed just held her quietly, leaning his head on top of hers, one hand supporting the child and one supporting his wife. Rogue leaned in too, deliberately sending support that she knew Arica would pick up on through close contact.  
  
Arica quieted and smiled gratefully at them both, and joined the mourners at the gravesite. Hank immediately stood up and offered her his seat since it was up in front, smiling down at the child. She smiled, greeted him, and gratefully took it. Victor ignored Bobby Drake when he offered the chair at Arica's left, and sat on the grass to her right. Arica absently tangled a hand in his long blond hair, almost petting him like a cat. To everyone's astonishment, he rumbled softly...almost...purring?  
  
Arica began answering questions about her baby and life to Hank and Bobby, smiling contentedly to be back.  
  
Storm nodded to herself, everyone was here, plus one extra no one had expected. Gratitude for the babies presence rocked her, restoring something inside. Hope maybe. All she knew was that a great weight lifted off her shoulders at the mere sight of that tiny being with her obviously loving parents, despite their strange pasts. The baby let out a loud wail without warning when Storm got onto the podium, and laughter rang out from all over. Victor didn't even have to look, he just shot a hand into the bag and produced a bottle which Arica took and offered the child.  
  
"Well, I guess someone wants us to begin soon," Ororo said into the mike, smiling with the resurgence of laughter. "And it is a good way. I could not have thought of a better way to begin this than the sound of a child. Charles Xavier felt the hope of the future was in the children, and if we ever needed hope, it's now. The greatest man I have ever had the pleasure to personally know is gone. Ripped from my life without so much as by your leave."  
  
"The sickness didn't care what I thought, it walked in and tore my life apart. But today, I know for the first time since he died, that it will go on. All of it. The school, the dream, and most of all, us. We will go on, we will have lives, families, and celebrations. And we will remember him in them. We will remember him in the operation and continued legacy of this school, his greatest love. And that is his greatest gift to me, the strength to know that. All the knowledge and memories from him will go on with me. We will all go on, and that is what he wants for us. I know, because he told me that just before he was lost to us. I know we're all in pain, but I hope some of us, if not all, leave here smiling, secure in the knowledge that he lived the way he wanted, and that he wants us to continue to live, and all he ever wanted for us, mutant and human alike, to be happy. To grow and prosper, to have families and bask in their love, and love each other, no matter how different we are. That is what I carry inside me now, and it pushes away the grief. I hope it may do so for all of you, as well."  
  
Storm stepped down, tucking away the admittedly long winded speech into her pocket, feeling much relieved. It was all what she thought she should say, not what she wanted to say. Seeing Arica there has released her. Arica and Logan had always done as they wanted to, and been free and usually right. Life had changed, she was going to change with it. Forge had been right, much as it galled her to admit it. She wondered what he would think of her telling him so ten years later? A slight smile curved her lips as she met his gaze. He stared back, expression caught somewhere between curious and intrigued. Her smile widened, as did the peace in her heart. Thank you, Charles. For all of it.  
  
There was a series of speeches that no one really listened to, people spoke at funerals mostly to ease the pain, and get the things they meant to say long before said. The afternoon was warm, the comforting drone of insects lulling people into meditative states. Mystique later swore to any that would listen that she could hear people's heads snap up when Victor Creed got onto the podium.  
  
He looked over the crowd for a long and tense moment, a slight smile playing about his lips as he met the wary eyes of all watching him. Even Arica looked faintly surprised, but covered it well. Her expression shifted from confused to expectant tinged with curious.  
  
"No sense introducin' myself, I think I'm fairly well known here," he began, loosing a murmur of assent through the crowd. "And every last one o' ya, includin' my own wife, is wonderin' what the hell I'm doin' up here. Well, I'll tell ya. I got somethin' ta say, just like the rest o' ya."  
  
He smiled, faintly triumphantly, and placed both hands on the podium and assumed as non threatening a body posture as you could get when you were seven feet tall, all muscle, and owned a reputation that made Jack the Ripper look like polite society.  
  
"Charlie took me in once, ya all know that. It didn't go so well," his eyes lingered on Jean for a long moment, she met his gaze back unflinchingly. "I left, and things around here I assume pretty much went back to normal. Then I met a student here by accident, she basically drew down on me in a mall, assumin', and rightly so, that I was there to cause trouble. She was a little late at the time, but I'd never seen any female act like that. Even though I could smell her fear, she faced down on me, and took me on head on. No hesitation, no runnin', just fightin'. It wasn't the first time we clashed, wasn't the last."  
  
There was a ripple of laughter following that, and Creed's eyes lingered on his small family nearby. Arica was blushing pretty badly, and Rogue was caught whispering in her ear, and joined her in the blush.  
  
"It wasn't hard to realize the girl was a tk/tp in that first fight, and I got even more interested. But despite beliefs goin' on around here, it was that courage that got my attention. The same courage I've seen in a lot of students at this school, usually as I fought them. I've never seen it anywhere else. Xavier taught her that. Taught all o' ya that. I respected him for that. For the time he tried to help me. Most just want ta kill me."  
  
"I started datin' this little scarp of blond X-man. There was a big stir when Cyclops caught us together. A lot of people assumed that she was betrayin' Xavier, that he caught her sellin' me all kinds of secrets. What he really saw that day was me givin' Arica a cheesesteak I got her from a corner cart, she loved 'em. She took it, smiled up at me, and for the first time ever, she kissed me without any promptin'. That is what Cyke saw. No betrayals, no secrets, just me fallin' in love for the only time in my life. And I'm not ashamed ta admit it."  
  
"But more importantly, it's also what Xavier believed. I know he kept our whereabouts quiet, you were all too surprised to have known he never lost touch with us. Charles Xavier came to my place about three months after Arica showed up at my door at 3 am lookin' for a place to live, saying Cyke had kicked her out. He listened ta her side, listened ta me, and just nodded. A nod that says, I know. And then he asked us both to join the X-men. Which we didn't do, but we took him up on his other offer, and went ta help out his Lilandra chick in the Shi'ar empire."  
  
"And that's why I'm up here. Because Xavier was that kind of man. Because he tried ta help me, not once, but twice. For trainin' my Arica into her full potential to the point that she fixed everything that freak government did ta me in the Weapon X project. For sending us to a place where she could be with me and be happy and free."  
  
"There aren't a lot of people like him, and now we're short one. And if even I think the world is less, do I really need ta say anymore?"  
  
He got down, looking faintly self conscious as he did so. Arica stood, pulled him down to kiss him, and handed him the child, getting up on the podium herself with a little help from him before he sat.  
  
"Thank you," she said to her husband, then turned to the crowd. "I'm a little wobbly, Kiya's only two days old, and it wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. But I had to be here. For the man who never abandoned me, no matter how hard it got. I lived in this school for four years. That was four years of uncontrolled tk and tp incidents, I wasn't really good at controlling them when I got here. Four years of hired bounty hunter after hunter trying to kidnap me for Sinister. Four years of a lot of attitude from me, and all the trouble I found. And no matter what, he was always there for me. Even when I usually ran to Logan and Jean first, he was always ready to help. The only thing he ever asked in return I couldn't give him. He wanted to see my baby. He was overjoyed the day I called him on the Shi'ar phone thing...whatever you call it."  
  
She waved her hand dismissively, and Lilandra actually laughed a little through her tears. Victor got up and walked over to her, offering his daughter to her. Lilandra gratefully took the child and held it close, talking quietly with him.  
  
"But my body, or my baby, who knows who decides, didn't cooperate. I argued with the Shi'ar medtechs for weeks about inducing labor, but they refused. Apparently Charles told them not to interfere. Even dying he was looking out for me, for all of us, again. Who else can be like that? But that's not why I'm here. I'm here for something else."  
  
Arica's gaze met Magneto's for a long moment before slowly turning up to the cameras hidden tastefully capturing the funeral for worldwide view. "I'm here to ask everyone to stop. Stop the violence, stop the hatred, and stop the crazed killings. If this man can look out for others when he was dying, in all kinds of pain and knowing his life was slipping away minute by minute, what excuse do the rest of us have? I'm a mutant. I can move things with my mind and 'mindread', I guess you would call it. You say what could stop me from hurting you if you're not a mutant. Mutants say to me how can I not take up arms in defense of mutants against the still greater numbers of regular humanity?"  
  
"It's simple. I don't hurt you because I was raised better. Last week they executed Ripley Coolidge for the murder of over one hundred and fifty people. He wasn't a mutant. And he still hurt you. It took one hundred and fifty deaths to get enough evidence to stop him. You don't have to be a mutant to be violent. And being a mutant doesn't predispose you to it. It's how we're raised. Some of the mutants out there that are on the public enemy lists live the way they do because of reactions to what humans have done to them. Some are just bad, no excuses at all. Some of the militant anti-mutant group members are reacting to what mutants have done to them personally. Some are just bad, no excuses at all."  
  
"What you have to protect you is simple, every last mutant as you call us is human too. We have the same feelings, the same strengths and weaknesses, and same reactions as all of you. And just like the regular human populace, most of us want to work to serve the greater good. You fear mutant criminals? Get mutant cops then. Which is sometimes what I've felt like during the years I served the school. More than once I went out and risked my life to stop some crazed mutant hell bent on ruling the world or destroying it or some bizarre goal. I came real close to being in the ground with one of these gatherings held for me more than once. For all of you, mutant and normal. I did it for all of you. I'll keep doing it. Some of us have super powers like me, or some have totally pointless powers like one woman I know of whose only power is that she can change the color of plants. It doesn't change the plant in any way, only the color. What tactical advantage does that give her?"  
  
Arica waited for the amused murmers to die down. "What Xavier wanted more than anything was for us all to seek knowledge, peace, and friendship. Stop reading about mutants and watching them on tv. Go get to know some. Come to our school Call that mutant relative that you disowned out of fear. Find out for yourself. And mutants, stop watching the humans on tv and reading about them. Go out and get to know them too. In this country, once upon a time, anyone not white was feared and hated. Considered less than human. No rights. Several civil rights movements later we abolished that. Sexuality and cultures became issues next, and then those two were abolished as being personal choices, not a reason to kill. No it's being a mutant. If we are evolution at a lot of scientists say, hating us won't help. It won't make us go away, there will be more and more of us. Accept us, welcome us, and let us work together for our world and future. And if it is true, then you are our parents. We are not better than you any more than any child is better than it's parent, and it's our job, and our duty, to love and honor the humans that gave birth to us."  
  
Arica took a deep breath. "My daughter is not a mutant. She was born of two mutant parents, Victor Creed, known as Sabretooth, and Arica Creed, known as MindDancer. She's just Kiya Creed. Human. And we love her just the same. We're not excited or disappointed that she's human and not mutant. We're just excited and proud that she's ours, that we brought this little being into life. What does that tell you all? We're all one people, let's start acting like it."  
  
"I've seen enough threats in the rest of the galaxy to know that fighting each other is akin to suicide. There are real enemies out there. Let's stop making fights that aren't there, and get ready for the ones that will come. Maybe the new step humanity is taking is a defense for the future, not a threat from within. Please, just stop. Before we learn the hard way. Charles left me a video to watch before he died. He asked me to take his place, to come home to the planet that gave birth to me and fight for peace. Not with my powers unless absolutely necessary, but with my intellect and emotion. So here I am. Back on a world that didn't have much use for me to begin with, trying to protect it. I ask you, not just the people here, not just the people watching this, but the entire world, help me out here. This job is too big for me. I need you all, I need you to talk to your families, your neighbors, your governments. I'm not really here to replace him like he asked. I'm here to offer something else, tribute to the man lost to us. Following in his footsteps, but never replacing him. Thank you."  
  
Arica climbed down in the utter silence that followed. People were staring at her as if she was some fascinating new specimen of life they'd never seen before. She smiled back at them, her expression warm and welcoming as she leaned on her husband tiredly. An open face, come to me and be welcome, Storm thought.  
  
"You okay with this, Ari?" Victor asked her softly.  
  
"Yeah. I wasn't until I got up there, and they were all looking at me. But then I realized, someone has to try. If I fail, I will fail knowing I did everything I could. For their futures, for Kiya's, for her children, for us. It's enough."  
  
"Bless you, child, and may God give you all his aid in your future then," Kurt said softly, bowing in his courtly fashion to her and kissing her hand. "May God show us all the way."  
  
"Thank you Kurt, I think we'll need it. So much hatred out there," she answered softly.  
  
"So why you anyway?" Victor asked his wife, watching her face curiously.  
  
"Not for the reasons a lot of people are thinking. My powers are coincidence, I was made to oppose him, remember? Not take up his cause. I think he chose me because of you, and because of Kiya. If I could get you to stop fighting just for the hell of it, I must ge good at reasoning. And I have something to protect, don't I, baby girl?"  
  
Kiya made a soft gurgle at her mom, laying peacefully in her fathers arms. Victor fought hard not to let the sappy look he feared taking over his face show through.  
  
"Arica."  
  
The voice was almost like her husband's, gruff and raw, but not quiet. She turned and smiled at her old friend. "Hello, Logan."  
  
"You really mean to come back to the school, take Charlie's place in the media and politics, and drag him around with ya?" Logan asked quietly, glaring daggers at Sabretooth.  
  
For his part, Victor was tense and ready, carefully transferring his daughter into Rogues willing arms and backing up and away from Rogue and Arica in case Logan decided to take a swing or something. He didn't want his daughter or either woman getting hurt over him. Logan's eyes widened slightly as he tracked Victor's movements.  
  
Logan couldn't stop the surprise that cracked his indifferent expression. It wasn't a move Sabretooth normally made. Was he serious? Did Arica repair whatever damage crazed his brain for all those years? He couldn't see a mark on her, not a single telltale scare from Victor's claws anywhere. It seemed unlikely that he could have had Arica around for 7 years and not marked her up otherwise.  
  
"I'll be watching you, bub. But I'm not what you used to be, I won't draw down on ya over our past. I won't widow Arica, or orphan her baby. But you hurt either one..."  
  
"If I hurt either one, I would then take myself out," Victor replied, fire in his eyes at the idea of his girls hurt, or worse, at his own hands. Arica had repaired the Weapon X programming, gotten it outta his brain, and then went to work on emotional damage his father inflicted. He'd always be aggressive and fight for whatever he was sworn to at the moment. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for his girls, but he didn't need to kill, not like times before Arica. It was enough. And he let it all show in his eyes for a moment. Let the runt be jealous, he still looked plenty fucked up from Weapon X.  
  
Arica shot him a glance, but said nothing . He wasn't sure if she's picked up on his thought or not. She just took the lone rose she'd kept from the large bouquet she'd laid with the others and quietly went and laid it out on Scott Summers final marker. All is forgiven.  
  
She got a lot of strange stares, but she's meant it. No more fighting. It was what Xavier wanted. Final tribute. "Rest in Peace, both of you." 


End file.
